a divide.

push

pull

split

fight 

                   two sides of the coin

flip

                   heads or tails?

it lands on the ridge

                   perfectly balanced

as it

                                    rolls

                                                       down

                                                                        the hall

                                                                                           teetering

two doors raise themselves

                   no middle door

and i see two worlds

                                                                        teetering.

The door on the right 

                   smells of spice

                                      warm curry and incense 

deep fried tofu and sriracha

                                      it breathes fire

                   and smoke

a history of ashes and memories best left forgotten.

The door on the left

                   tastes like apple turnovers

                                      tart and rich

it burst in my mouth like lemon drops

                                      and saccharine licorice 

                                      but the drums march on

                   and overwhelms

a history of deceit and forgotten memories unloved.

                   the coin rolls on

                                      until it hits

                                                         and

                                                         drops

in between 

the two doors.

They shut and

I am alone.